Thirsty
by chewy chewy
Summary: Sequel to "Thirsty" Deals with Abby's addiction, she decides to face it. Some strong language included...R
1. Thirsty

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, the good people at NBC, Warner Bros, etc. do. So do the writers and the creators.  
  
This is in the sole purpose of entertainment, only.  
  
Last Episode Applied to: Sometime between "A Simple Twist Of Fate" and "It's All In Your Head"  
  
Spoilers? Yeah, there are going to be some spoilers included in the future, but not in this chapter  
  
To Sum it up: Abby makes a decision that could harm her and/or others  
  
Title: "Thirsty"  
  
Chapter Title: "Thirsty"  
  
Enjoy!  
  
  
  
"Abby, I have something I need to tell you," Luka Kovac said on Abby's answering machine.  
  
He was somewhat relieved that the answering machine had picked up, and not Abby. He wasn't ready.  
  
He sighed, thinking how Abby would react to his news. Would she be glad what he did?  
  
Or would she see it in a different way and be angry with him?  
  
"Is she going to look at me differently?" He thought to himself.  
  
As the day went on, other thoughts came pouring in his head,  
  
"I hope she doesn't take this as an invitation to be with me again.  
  
I care for her, but I just hope that I didn't make it sound like I want to get back into that mess we had long ago."  
  
---------------  
  
Two days since Abby had gotten attacked by Brian, she was finally back in her apartment.  
  
She looked around to see if anything was different. Some clothes still lay scattered on the couch.  
  
Magazines cluttered her coffee table, and her apartment still had that certain look to it. Everything was still the same, though it didn't feel quite the same.  
  
She slowly walked around her apartment, getting used to the feeling of home. She decided to check her answering machine.  
  
"God, there must be a bunch of messages on here," She thought to herself.  
  
She pushed the play messages button, to once again, hear that dead voice of the machine, "You have 3 new messages."  
  
She decided there was no harm in hearing them now. The first two were credit card offers. Like she needed a credit card right now.  
  
When she came across the third one, it sort of caught her off guard.  
  
"Abby, I have something I need to tell you," She recognized the voice instantly. There was no other person she knew who had that thick Croatian accent.  
  
"I hope he doesn't want to get back together with me..." She thought. Other worries flooded her head, just by thinking about it.  
  
She checked her watch, it was 9:34 PM. She remembered him saying that he was off today, so she decided to call him and get it over with.  
  
She picked up her phone. Instantly, memories of that day had came back to her.  
  
She decided to push them back and dial. After a few seconds of dialing, she heard the familiar ring. She waited 4 rings and decided to hang up, when the other end picked up.  
  
"Luka?" She asked slowly.  
  
"Abby, you got my message?" Was all he could say.  
  
"Uh, yeah, is there something wrong?"  
  
"Not exactly, but there is something that I should tell you," He said. His voice was calm, which helped Abby not to worry too much.  
  
"Go ahead," She said reassuringly.  
  
"Okay, this isn't very easy to say, but before I start, I just want to say that I already punished myself for this stupid thing that I did.  
  
Uh, after I found out you had been attacked on Thursday, I was scared. I was scared and angry. After I had seen you like that, I had so much anger bottled up inside, when I found out it was that guy who was beating his wife, I went out and looked for him," He said. His voice was getting a little panicky.  
  
"Just tell me, Luka," Abby said. The tone of her voice was weak, half expecting a big bomb to be dropped on her.  
  
She remembered when Luka had killed that mugger, but decided to forget that.  
  
"I found him at that bar you told the police about. He said he was going to turn himself in.  
  
But, just by looking at the face that hurt you, I started hitting him. I just had to make him feel what you felt, and I'm sorry that I did that, Abby," He said.  
  
"I don't know what to say," Which was true. Abby really didn't know how to respond to this.  
  
"If there is any question in this investigation, I will take full responsibility for it," He said.  
  
"Did you turn yourself in?"  
  
There was no response on Luka's behalf, which worried Abby.  
  
"Luka? Did you turn yourself in?"  
  
"No, I didn't, Abby," He said. His voice was full of worry and guilt.  
  
Abby didn't know whether to praise him, or scold him.  
  
She wanted to say 'Thanks, Luka,'. Or other wise she would say 'Why did you do such a stupid thing?'. She just didn't know how to react.  
  
"Abby, you have every right to be mad at me," He said.  
  
"I'm not mad, I mean, I don't know..." She said.  
  
"Abby, I'm really sorry about this. I'm sorry that you had to get hurt, and I'm sorry that I got involved. I should go now," He said.  
  
Abby wanted to respond, but he hung up too quickly for her. Her heart was nearly pounding because of all of this.  
  
She didn't know how to process it all, it wasn't the biggest deal, but she was feeling full of emotions lately. She went into her kitchen searching for something. She opened up a cupboard door and behind a few boxes of food, she took out a jar.  
  
It was a regular clear jar, with no labels on it. It was filled with money. Change, ones, fives, tens, and what ever was in there.  
  
Every time Abby would think about taking a drink of alcohol, even a sip, she would put money in the jar.  
  
She poured all the money out on the table to count it. After minutes of counting, she came to a total of $243 and 23 cents.  
  
"Six years," She thought. "It's been six whole years," Every month, week, day, hour, and up to every second of those six years, she had been sober.  
  
Part of her thought that six years was just the beginning. The other part of her screamed that six years was long enough.  
  
With only her instincts, she grabbed a wad of the money and left her apartment.  
  
She found herself wondering the streets of Chicago, at night. She came across a bar called 'Jon's Corner Bar' and decided to go in. The part of her that didn't want this was pushed aside. The Abby that was thirsty for this, ordered a drink.  
  
"Hi, can I get something strong, please?" She asked the young bartender.  
  
"Sure thing," Noticing her bruise, he remarked, "You look like you've had a long day."  
  
"Something like that," She said.  
  
"Here, this should help."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
She picked up the shot and almost decided to back out.  
  
"You've worked to hard to completely fall, Abby," She could hear that voice in her head. That voice that she's been hearing a lot lately. It wasn't her own voice, it was Carter's. The simple, caring voice of Carter's.  
  
"He's not going to find out," She thought as she swallowed her first sip.  
  
It was the sweet taste that she remembered exactly how it had been.  
  
It went down her throat so smooth and she could see all her pain melting away. She felt like she was the devil, committing a favorable sin. She decided to sum it up. It felt good. Seconds later, she finished it, no problem at all.  
  
"You finished that one quick. You look like you just took your first drink ever," The bartender said.  
  
Abby simply responded, "I did."  
  
  
  
The End  
  
(If this is well received, I will probably upload a few more chapters) 


	2. The Sun Sets

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.  
  
This was written for the sole purpose of entertainment.  
  
Spoilers: Nothing really spoiler-ish, just some general season 8 spoilers.  
  
Notes: This is the sequel to "Thirsty". I know its been a while, but I decided to continue it.  
  
I put a lot into this story, but if you don't like it, that's not going to stop me from writing ;-)  
  
Oh, about the medical terms, etc., I'm not very good at it, so if it doesn't seem right, that's because  
  
I'm not very good at writng the medical stuff.  
  
Rating: This is rated PG-13 for some strong language  
  
Title: "The Sun Sets"  
  
Enjoy!  
  
**************  
  
"Are you really sure that this is your first time?" The bartender asked.  
  
"Um," Abby said, thinking. "Sort of."  
  
"Well, looking at you, you can't really judge that way. You're drunk already, and I'm sorry but I can't serve you anymore tonight." He said.  
  
His eyes looked at Abby like she was homeless and brokenhearted.  
  
"That's fine." Abby said, getting up. Her head thought differently and wanted to fall down.  
  
She stumbled, and grabbed onto the stool to regain her balance. It failed, she went down along with the stool.  
  
"Here, let me help you up. Is there anyone I can call to get you home?" He said.  
  
He ran around the corner to get to her. He pulled her up slowly so dizziness wouldn't be another factor.  
  
"No, I walked here." Abby said.  
  
Her voice was slightly slurred, but you could tell that she's been in the position so many times that she can almost perfect her voice in a drunken state.  
  
"Well, alright." He said.  
  
Halfway out, Abby asked, "What's your name?"  
  
He looked up from wiping off the counter and quickly answered her, "Jon."  
  
"Thanks, Jon." Abby said, walking out the door.  
  
Looking up at the dark sky, Abby noticed the storm clouds.  
  
They were barely visible through the poor street lighting. She checked her watch, almost 12:15.  
  
She walked slowly on the sidewalk, but she had to stop at the corner. She had to think of where she was, and how far away she was from home. She looked like she was lost.  
  
Right before the thought came back to her mind, a car stopped at the red light at the intersection.  
  
It was a dark blue jeep, and it was just a few feet away from her. She looked in as quick as she thought to.  
  
She was right. She knew who it was. It was Carter.  
  
The same Carter that would shame her for life because she couldn't face her addiction. "Shit!"  
  
She cursed in her mind, but as much as she did, the fact that he was still there didn't go away.  
  
Just as she turned away to keep walking home, he glanced to his right.  
  
Abby began to pick up her speed, just incase he went looking for her. She noticed the rain starting to fall.  
  
She had left her apartment in such a hurry she didn't even think to bring a jacket or an umbrella.  
  
"Shit, shit, shit!" She said, this time aloud.  
  
The rain began to fall harder, and harder. She walked faster and faster, until she realized that she was sprinting. She was no sprinter though, plus the fact that she was drunk, she looked like a crazy person who was chasing a rainbow. Within the next few minutes, she was staring up at her familiar building.  
  
She was finally home. But she couldn't go in yet. She had to grab a supply. An emergency supply.  
  
She walked to the store that was just a block from her apartment.  
  
She walked in and immediately, the clerk took a notice of her. Just what she didn't need.  
  
"You look pretty wet." She said blankly.  
  
Abby just wanted to shout, "No, shit, lady!" But she had too much to risk.  
  
She had a whole case of beer to risk. Maybe two, depending on how she wanted to play the rest of the night out.  
  
"Is that it?" The clerk quizzed the look on her face.  
  
"Yes." She hated it when they asked that. Always trying to make extra sales.  
  
She paid for her beer and got out as fast as she could.  
  
For what seemed like hours, Abby was finally in her own personal setting.  
  
Free to drink as much as she wanted to.  
  
Before she took her first drink, she looked into the mirror.  
  
She didn't even recognize herself, so she hoped to god that Carter didn't, either.  
  
Her hair was in a wet, tangley mess from the wind and the rain.  
  
Her eyes were a little bloodshot, and her face looked aged.  
  
She didn't like what she saw, so she opened up the first beer. She drank the whole 12 ounces of it in just two short minutes.  
  
"Pouring yourself another bottle of sorrow?" That damn voice again. It was loud and stern.  
  
Obviously, it had been Carter's.  
  
She hit herself on the head to forget it. She took another bottle, and opened it.  
  
This time, when she opened it, she felt some regret, but nonetheless, she still drank its contents.  
  
The next thing that she could remember was waking up. She had no idea what time it was.  
  
It was still dark out, so she figured it had to be sometime before 7 or 8.  
  
Her shift would start at 9. She looked down at herself. She was covered in sweat.  
  
Thinking about it, she realized that she was oddly hot.  
  
Her head was pounding.  
  
Parts of her felt like she had too much to drink, the other parts were already 'penciling' her in for another late-night binge. She laid back down and went to sleep.  
  
The next thing that she remembered was waking up.  
  
There was a loud ringing in the back of her head. When she got up, she realized that the ringing wasn't only occurring in her head, but also from her phone. The answering machine was blinking a couple of times.  
  
Realizing that for the first time, she has missed work with out calling in sick.  
  
She pushed play on the answering machine. The shrill 'beep' of the machine didn't help her throbbing headache.  
  
"Hello, Abby?  
  
This is Dr. Weaver calling from the ER, and I was wondering if you plan on getting fired today.  
  
You haven't come in yet and its after 10. I was wondering if you were coming in at all."  
  
She waited for the next message, and recognized the voice instantly.  
  
"Hey, Abby. It's Carter. Where are you, are you okay? You're missing out on work and Weaver says that she hasn't heard from you at all. Just call me later and we can talk."  
  
After hearing the two messages, she sunk down on her couch. She looked at the clock.  
  
It was almost 12. She decided to call the ER and tell them she was sick.  
  
It was better than not calling at all.  
  
After dialing the number, she heard Kerry answer it. "County General ER!" She shouted into the phone grouchy.  
  
Scheming up her best hoarse and stuffy voice, Abby decided to tell her how sick she was.  
  
"Kerry, its me, Abby. I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier, but I just got my voice back now.  
  
I'm not going to be coming in at all today, probably not tomorrow if my fever doesn't go down."  
  
She paused so she could fake a sneeze. "I'm sorry, Kerry."  
  
"No, that's okay, Abby. Just try to be back here soon. Get better, and remember to get your rest so you can get back to work soon.  
  
Oh, you might want to try a hot lemon tea for that throat, that always works."  
  
Abby heard the click of the phone on the other end.  
  
She took a deep sigh and took some aspirin for her headache.  
  
When she walked back to the couch, the phone was ringing again.  
  
"Kerry mustn't of bought it." She thought to herself.  
  
"Hello?" Abby asked. She still played the sick bit, just incase.  
  
"Abby is that you?"  
  
"Yeah." She said slowly.  
  
"Hey, its Carter. Are you okay?" He asked. The level of sympathy in his voice was high.  
  
"Yeah, I just have a really bad head cold. That's all." Abby said quietly.  
  
"Oh. Was that you I saw last night? I was in my jeep after I got off and I saw someone looking lost, they looked an awful lot like you."  
  
"No," She said quickly. "I was home all day yesterday, because I wasn't feeling well."  
  
"Oh, okay. Well, you let me know if you see your long lost twin running around Chicago." The cheer in his voice grew. He had bought it, too.  
  
"Well, I'm going to go lay down now. I appreciate your concern. Talk to you later, Carter." She said, hanging up.  
  
"This calls for another beer...or two, maybe three." She said softly to herself.  
  
She had successfully bought herself at least a day or two free to drink. Just what she needed.  
  
She opened up her refrigerator to count how many she had left. She added up the different brands she had and counted up eight.  
  
"Shoot, that's only enough for a buzz." She thought.  
  
9 hours, 12 minutes, and a few beers later, Abby was drunk. Drunk like she was the night before, only this time, she really did something stupid.  
  
"Carter, can you come over for a while?" She spoke into the phone. Her voice was slightly slurred, but not enough to tell over the phone.  
  
"Sure." He said. She could tell he was rather reluctant.  
  
15 minutes later, she heard the knock at the door.  
  
She clumsily made her way to the door. She knocked down a decorative glass piece.  
  
It shattered when it hit the floor. She didn't know why she bought it anyway, it stuck out.  
  
She opened the door to Carter who had heard the noise.  
  
"Something break?" He asked.  
  
"Yeah, it was just something that I was planning on throwing out anyway." She said.  
  
She began to lead him in. Not the perfect thing to do, to let him be behind her to see how off her balance was.  
  
"Do you want to sit down?" She asked.  
  
He noticed the scattered empty beer bottles lying in various places. With out blinking, he decided to calmly talk about it. "Sure."  
  
Abby sat down herself, turned to her side and picked up a half-empty bottle. She began to drink it, right in front of him. She was too drunk to even think about the stupidest actions of hers.  
  
"When did you start drinking again?" He immediately questioned her.  
  
"This? Oh, I was thirsty about 10 minutes ago and opened it up. It's still good." She said.  
  
Not only was she klutzy when she was drunk, but she was dumb when she drunk. Carter took a notice of that.  
  
"Abby." He said strictly. "When did you fall of the wagon?"  
  
Thinking, realizing she couldn't back out, she answered him. "A few months ago."  
  
"And you hid this from me?!" He couldn't help raising his voice. He wasn't yelling at Abby, at least not the Abby he knew.  
  
"So, so, so" She stuttered, trying to think of a comeback. "So you expected me to just say 'Oh, by the way, Carter, I'm drinking again, see you tomorrow!'"  
  
"No! I at least expected you to face your addiction and seek professional help.  
  
Look at yourself, Abby, you look like a drunk. You're sitting here acting like this isn't a big deal!"  
  
His anger and tension grew. He so desperately wanted to help her, but he knew he couldn't get through to her. At least not now.  
  
"I AM a drunk!! And I want you to leave." She said.  
  
"Leave? But you were the one who invited me here." Carter said.  
  
"Well, I'm drunk. I'd say anything!" She shot back.  
  
Carter quickly got up and didn't wait for her to show him out.  
  
Abby slammed the door just barely after he had stepped out. She waited 3 seconds and quickly opened the door.  
  
"Carter, hey Carter!" She made sure he could hear her. "You should try shooting up some Fentynol again, see how that makes you feel."  
  
She wasn't herself when she was drunk. She knew that .  
  
She knew that she was some loud person when she was drunk. But she only wished that he hadn't treated her like that.  
  
She does have a problem, much like he had. She never would have treated him like that when he was addicted to painkillers.  
  
Realizing that she had been completely out of 'character' the past few days, she made a snap decision.  
  
First she made her way back into her living room, and picked up all the empty, and some full bottles.  
  
She put them all in a large plastic garbage bag.  
  
Then she went into the kitchen, and slowly opened up her fridge.  
  
She closed her eyes, and took a breath. She grabbed the last of her alcoholic friends and opened them all. She was inches close do drinking them all, right then an there.  
  
Instead, on impulse, she dumped them all into the sink. She heard it trickling down the sink, slowly, almost taunting her on her decision. That didn't stop her from dumping the last of it.  
  
She climbed into her bed, thinking that she wasn't cured, not yet anyway.  
  
She had just started walking down the long road to sobriety. She had hoped that, anyway.  
  
Falling asleep was a struggle. But each struggle had another struggle that was worse.  
  
She had tossed and turned several times.  
  
She couldn't make up her mind, under sheets, over sheets, under sheets, too hot, too cold, and so on. Finally, she found a temporary position and drifted off to sleep.  
  
She woke up the next morning, feeling good about herself.  
  
Not physically feeling good, she felt like crap, but she felt like she had made a good moral decision.  
  
She spent most of the day avoiding anything related to alcohol. She also spent parts of it staring blankly at the wall, wondering what she would do next.  
  
She had planned on talking to Carter soon. She thought tonight would be the best time.  
  
She wanted so desperately to show him she was going to be better, but she didn't know if she could do that, because she didn't know if she really would get better.  
  
When it was finally time for her to work, she arrived at County a few minutes early.  
  
She slowly walked into the ER doors, feeling like she betrayed everyone around her. She walked up to the front desk, just to make sure she still had a job.  
  
"Glad to see you're back on your feet, Abby." Jerry smiled at her. "I think I have what you had."  
  
He continued, rubbing his throat.  
  
"Try a cough drop, Jerry. You'll be fine." Abby winked at him.  
  
"Oh, Weaver's looking for you."  
  
"Oh, god, I hope Carter didn't tell her." She thought to herself. She spotted her working on some charts at the desk.  
  
"Hi, Dr. Weaver." Abby greeted her.  
  
"Abby," She said, looking up. "I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"  
  
"Sure." Abby said reluctantly.  
  
Kerry slowly stood up. "About your sick leave," She began.  
  
"I can explain" Abby said quickly.  
  
"I just wanted to tell you that you didn't run out of sick days.  
  
After you were attacked, I took the liberty of adding some to you. It's, okay." Weaver said, patting her on the shoulder.  
  
Embarrassed, Abby decided to thank her. "Oh, thanks."  
  
Weaver turned around and began to walk away, when she turned to Abby again.  
  
"Is there something wrong, Abby?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You just seem like there's something wrong. Are you okay?"  
  
"Oh, no I'm fine. Just getting over that damn cold." Abby laughed.  
  
Abby made her way into the lounge and finally took her coat off. After she had closed her locker, she noticed Susan standing near her.  
  
"Hi." Abby greeted her.  
  
"Hi, Abby." Susan said in a soft tone.  
  
"Something wrong?" Abby asked.  
  
"Uh, yeah." Susan sighed. "Carter's been acting like a jerk lately, and he won't say why he's always in such pissy moods."  
  
"Oh. I hate it when he does that." Abby said.  
  
"Yeah. He's a little hard to deal with. I thought that maybe you could talk to him."  
  
"I don't know, actually. I'm not very good at cheering people up." Abby laughed.  
  
"Just try, I really think he'll listen to you." Susan said sincerely.  
  
"Okay. I'll talk to him, but I can't guarantee he'll be all cheery tomorrow." Abby said, leaving the lounge.  
  
"Thanks!" Susan called to her.  
  
Minutes later, a trauma pulled into the ambulance bay of the ER.  
  
"Abby, you can help us with this!" Kerry summoned Abby to the ambulance bay.  
  
Abby pulled on her gloves and trauma suit and headed outside.  
  
"What've we got?" Susan asked the paramedic.  
  
"10 year old boy, riding his bike in Chicago, got hit by a vehicle. Bp's 120 over 30, pulse rate below normal. He might have a broken leg."  
  
"Susan, I think you and Abby can handle this, can't you?" Kerry asked.  
  
She had already started walking away before she could answer.  
  
A few minutes in the trauma room, Susan was leading the trauma and it was under control. Abby, on the other hand, was having some problems focusing.  
  
"Abby"  
  
"Abby!" Susan called again.  
  
"What?" Abby said, snapping out of a trance.  
  
"I need you to set the leg, the x-ray shows that there's a fracture below the tibia." Susan said.  
  
"Okay." Abby said. She made her way to the other side of the gurney to work on the boy's left leg.  
  
"Uh, Abby..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"It's the right leg that's broken." Susan pointed to the visibly injured leg.  
  
"Right." Abby said. She made a mental note to kick herself for that.  
  
"Maybe you should take a break." Susan said.  
  
"No!" "I uh, I didn't mean to get overly defensive. I can handle this." Abby said.  
  
"Abby, just take a break!" Susan ordered her.  
  
With that, Abby quickly left the trauma room.  
  
She went into the lounge, wishing there was beer there, but fought it. She fought the feelings she had in her head and instead drank a bottle of water, it was much better for her.  
  
"Abby, is there something going on that I don't know about?" Susan asked.  
  
"No." Abby studied the water bottle in her hands, not looking up at Susan.  
  
"If you want to talk, I'm here." Susan said.  
  
"Thanks, but I'm just tired, Susan." She said.  
  
"Okay, but just let me know." Susan said, leaving.  
  
"I've got to talk to Carter. Today." Abby thought to herself. She began to picture the conversation.  
  
She thought about the ugly turns it could take, the ugly turns that their conversations have taken in the past.  
  
When her shift was finally over, it had just started to get dark out.  
  
The air was light and cool, and the sun hung low in the sky. She dug through her purse for a cigarette. Another addiction she would one day have to face. She placed the cigarette between her lips and lit it.  
  
She took a long puff, it felt healthy, especially after today. But even she knew that it was far from healthy.  
  
"That's a filthy habit, too." A voice said beside her.  
  
She turned to look them in the face. It was Carter.  
  
"What are you doing here? You're not on until tomorrow." She put her cigarette out.  
  
"I had no reason to be home. I thought I could maybe come here to talk some sense in you, but I decided that was a long shot."  
  
"You did help me. You ARE helping me." She said to him.  
  
She sat down on the bench he had been sitting on.  
  
"Susan told me that you've had a bad attitude lately. I hope it'ts not because of me." She said quietly to him.  
  
On usual days, she would have cracked some sort of joke about it, this was different.  
  
"I thought I'd change my personality and lifestyle. Being that you changed yours." His eyes began to focus on the sun.  
  
"I didn't change, Carter. I'm still the same person.  
  
The same person with the same problem, and I decided today that I want you to help me. I want to help myself the most, but I want you to be there with me.  
  
I want us to be okay again." She tried to get through to him.  
  
Tried to get him to look at her. He was still fixed on the sunset.  
  
He finally turned to her. His eyes began to focus more on her.  
  
His voice was quiet and calm. "Why did you do it?"  
  
"I was out of milk." The best way, Abby thought, to avoid this was to make jokes.  
  
"Abby." He looked at her sharply.  
  
"I don't know, I really don't. I guess I've been thirsty, six years without a drink and all..." She stuttered out of her mouth.  
  
"Is there something that I don't know about that triggered it?" He was asking her all these questions, but he asked this one with an extra amount of care in his voice.  
  
"I'm thinking that everything triggered it." She went on to explain, "My birthday, patients, Brian and Joyce, you..." She always like saving the best for last.  
  
"Me?" He asked her. She had caught him off guard.  
  
"My, uh," She nervously let out a chuckle, and closed her eyes, shaking her head. She wished she hadn't gone down that road.  
  
"Your...?" He implied her to continue.  
  
"My feelings for you. At that moment. It was a long time ago." She decided to make herself as clear as possible.  
  
"How long ago was this?" Carter asked her.  
  
"Maybe 2 or 3 months ago." She said, looking down.  
  
"Abby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is happening to you. I've been through this and it isn't fair. It isn't fair for me to be treating you like I have been."  
  
"Are we going to be the same again?" Abby asked. She meant to say it in her head, but somehow asked it out loud.  
  
"When two hearts separate," He paused. His eyes were concentrating on the sunset again. His facial expressions remained still. "The sun sets." He continued.  
  
Saying the first thing that came to mind, Abby lightly touched his shoulder to get his attention. "I heard that the sun's supposed to rise pretty early tomorrow."  
  
"You'll try?" He turned to her, looked directly at her. His hopes remained in her hands.  
  
"I'll try, yes, but you need to help me cross that bridge." She hated speaking metaphorically, but that was the best she could do. She really did want to try.  
  
"Of course." He said, putting his arm around her.  
  
"Thanks." She looked at him. "Really, I really mean it this time."  
  
"Your welcome." He smiled as they watched the sun fade away below the horizon. 


End file.
